Somebody to Love
by morbidpeach
Summary: There is no telling where life will lead you and after searching for a place to belong for centuries, making a fulfilling life in the Ningenkai surrounded by friends who are more like family is the last place Kamara ever thought she'd end up. With her haunting past hot on her heels, can she keep her hodgepodge family together without losing the one she's fallen for?
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note**: It's highly unlikely that I will post many AN's, so when they're here please feel obligated to read them. Or don't. Whichever floats your boat. I have no idea how this Fanfiction will be received, but if you don't have anything nice to say I'd prefer if you don't say anything at all. If by some miracle you do fall in love with these posted words I would like to warn you that I have the worst motivation on the planet and updates will likely be far and few between. Since this is my first ever fic I feel comfortable enough letting befall unsuspecting readers eyes, I can only imagine that reviews will help my motivation issues. Constructive criticism is always welcome and if you'd like me to respond to your questions PM me. Finally, I'd like to give a special shout out to ** .Lights** and **Aria2302**. You don't know me, but I have been following your wonderful works of literature since their beginnings. You two are my inspiration to keep writing and you were the push I needed to publish my own story on this site. So, special thanks to you lovely ladies (if you haven't read their stories...be like Nike and Just Do It!). And without further ado...the story begins!

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It had never occurred to me that my new life would be so complicated when I left the land of my ancestors all those years ago. The places I'd been, the people I had met, the atrocities I had committed all leading up to the pinnacle of my death. I had never wanted this, to die on the day that should have been my happiest. But here I am, barely containing the screams the spasms are tearing from my throat.

The pain, unbearable as it is, does not compare to the empty throb in my heart. I had no intention of falling in love with him, it just happened. I laugh cynically as the memory of our first meeting flashes in my mind's eye. We didn't get along then; hell, we barely got along now. He and I had an interesting relationship at best. It was one where he took all of me and I willingly gave myself over. We may have been similar in height, but we rarely saw eye to eye on anything, including the predicament I'm in now. I knit my brows in frustration as I think of how his absence over the last few months has created an ever-growing void in my chest and I don't stifle the cry or stop the tears that follow as another spasm concentrated in my abdomen ignites the pain to a new level.

Breathing hard and shallow, I look down at the only comfort I have to cling to. My brother's hand is grasped tightly in my own. The realization that I am squeezing too tightly registers as I take in how white his knuckles are and I rasp out a quipped apology, loosening my fingers to a more tolerable pressure. God, it hurt to talk. Everything hurts.

My brother looks at me then, emerald eyes shining with fear and just a hint of loathing. His voice sounds unfathomably tired as he responds to me, saying that he is fine and that I can squeeze as hard as I need to. The consolation does little to distract me from noticing the hardening of his emerald pools. He is reminiscing now. I can see that clear enough and I know what he is thinking without him having to utter a single word. He was the sibling I was closest to growing up. My brother and I have a special bond, one rarely seen in the world that we come from. I don't need him to speak to know. He is thinking of how we used to hold hands much like this while spending lazy days in the summer fields of the land we called home once; he is also thinking that this will be the last time he will ever hold his sister's hand again.

My thoughts are lost to me as another wave of pain hits me. I break eye contact with my brother's solemn orbs to clench mine in rapt agony. The Reikai healers bustle about as they shout orders to each other. I know my time is close. I can hear it in their hurried tones and I can feel my energy being drained away as the seconds tick on. It won't be long now.

There is a gentle and welcomed cooling touch placed carefully on my sweating brow and I pry my lids open to gaze upon one of my oldest and dearest friends. Her crimson eyes are full of sorrow for my predicament that the tears that film them threaten to fall at any moment.

"Yuki-chan," I croak her name weakly.

She hushes me and in her gentle tone adds, "You mustn't talk. Save your strength."

I nod wiltingly. She is right; I should save what little strength I still have. I will need it until the end, although in her barely concealed undertone I heard what she really meant to say: 'Save your strength, there still may be hope to save you.' But I am not foolhardy. I know that I wont make it to see the end of this day.

The thought is so morbid that sudden panic overtakes me and I look around wildly, trying my best to compose myself. I concentrate on my breathing. The healers said I needed to keep as even a breath as possible, though it has been the hardest thing I have ever had to concentrate on. Each intake of air nearly has me writhing, the restraints wrapped below my breast doing little to hold my slight frame to the bed. I feel a sudden 'pop' come from the depths of my belly and the pain that erupts has me howling in agony. It is time – my time.

I cinch my fingers tighter around my brother's hand and give a long, baleful scream as I feel something slip inside me. In an instant everything is over. There is emptiness in my body and in my soul. The Reikai healer's shouts become loud and rushed. My energy is waning fast now and the death grip I have on my brother becomes lax. He quickly grabs my hand to keep it from hitting the hospital bed and I think both he and Yuki are yelling my name. I'm not sure. Everything sounds muffled, as if I'm under water. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realize it is because of the blood that is rushing in my ears.

The pounding in my ears is slowing, becoming more tolerable by the second – _My heart is stopping, _I think desolately. My eyes feel heavy and in that moment I want nothing more than to let the comforts of eternal sleep have me. My eyes slide closed just before a loud crash resounds through the room. There is more shouting but I can't make out what anyone is saying. I try to lift my lids to see what the commotion is, but I no longer have the energy even for that. Vaguely, I feel my brother's clammy skin on my cheek and there is an ear-piercing wail of something small and in distress accompanied by the sound of stones bouncing on the tiled floor.

The last thing I remembered as I slipped into blissful oblivion was a familiar too-hot hand of another cupping my right cheek and the strangled, heart-wrenching growl of someone yelling, "_On'na!_"


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I forgot to mention in the last author's note that there is A LOT of backstory before we get to the good stuff. I mean...I don't think it's a ridiculous amount, but it does feel like a lot; especially since as a writer all you really want to do is write the big chapters and scrap the filler. But let's face it folks, the filler makes the story, or at least it makes the big chapters more exciting. The first few chapters are going to seem very familiar and that's because I really needed an in to introduce my character. Sorry for that, but they are worth it, I promise. And hopefully my writing style isn't too drab and the reading goes fast. Also, this fix is barely Beta'd, and for that I apologize. That's why it's ok to ask questions if things seem too muddled or confusing. I feel like I've forgotten something else, too...but I can't seem to put my finger on it...Oh! Right! I forgot the disclaimer. I'm only doing this once, so pay close attention...I own neither YYH nor any of its characters. I only own the characters that you will know were't originally there (sorry, no spoilers). Anywho...off we go on another adventure!

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File 1: Hanging-Neck Island

The wind held a bitter taste that day as a dilapidated vessel prepared to ship out on an inky sea towards its nefarious destination. The foghorn sounded last call as last-minute passengers rushed from the dock and trekked the boardwalk onto the ship. The boat would leave with or without them and those at the end of the stairway climbed faster as the vessel pulled away from the dock, spilling the temporary structure and some unlucky passengers into the bay below.

A figure stood at the bow of the ship wearing a bemused expression underneath the hood of a white cloak. Her eyes scanned the sea below as she listened to the muffled shouts of those who were unfortunate enough to be dropped into the sea. Every year it was the same; fools from all classes and all walks of the demon plain would cram themselves onto ships just like this one to be audience to the age-old practice of watching demons torture and murder each other in the equally age-old conquest of greed. The girl wrinkled her nose and scoffed at the thought, "Disgusting."

She turned her face to the wind as she tried to remember why she came back to The Dark Tournament every year. Ah, yes. The pay was good and living in the Ningenkai wasn't cheap. More importantly, it brought thousands of demons to one place. The Tournament made her job easy. Instead of scouring the vastness of the Ningenkai in search of one demon in particular, it brought them together under one dome. So, every year she accepted the offer the rich human scum made and journeyed to Hanging-Neck Island.

It amused her that they called on her. She found it comical and ironic that they would need a person of her skills to even attend The Dark Tournament, since most of the competitors ended up dead anyway. One of the human owners explained that having a healer like her there keeping the fighters in tip-top condition meant more money was made. It had something to do with bets and other black-market dealings, but she had stopped listening halfway through the explanation. It twisted her stomach and left a sour taste in her mouth knowing what humans were capable of doing for large sums of cash.

A sudden gust of wind interrupted her musings and had her slight frame stumbling sideways. If it weren't for the metal railing that encompassed the ship's deck she was sure that she'd have been sent overboard.

"You oughta watch yerself, lassie. That coulda ben one helluva doozy, yes it could," said a disembodied voice.

The girl, still clutching for life to the railing, whipped her head around to peer behind her. The source of the voice – a boisterous looking fellow with wild hair the color of poppies and a horn protruding from the middle of his forehead – was hovering above the deck with a wide grin plastered across his face. She narrowed her eyes at him and righted herself. Turning around to fully face this unwelcome intruder she tensed and tried to make herself seem as imposing as possible. "Thanks for the advice," she ground out.

The floating demon held his hands out in front of him, trying to diffuse the tiny woman's palpable anger. "I meant nothin' by it, I didn'. There's no need ta be getting' defensive."

The girl narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the newcomer. She knew all too well that you could never be too careful around the demons that came to these tournaments. She studied him for a few moments longer, taking in the amused glint in his cornflower eyes. Deciding that he meant her no malicious intentions she began to walk briskly back towards the opening that lead to the interior of the ship, giving him her back. He followed her, hovering with his legs crossed and hands behind his head.

"So," he started, "are you competin' in the tournament?"

"No," she countered flatly. She really didn't want to deal with this right now. She had more pressing matters on her mind.

"Oh," he said, hearing the tone in her voice but forgoing the warning. "Just comin' to watch the matches then?" He added energetically.

She stopped her march to about-face and glare at him. "Watching a bunch of muscle-headed, power-hungry demons kick the snot out of each other is not my idea of entertainment. I'm simply here to help the ones who survive their fights, heal," she said heatedly.

As if the notion amused him even more, the redhead's grin grew wider and he excitedly exclaimed, "Ah! A demon nurse of sorts, are ye? I migh' have to fake a stomach ache so I can get the chance ta see ya again," he finished with a wink in her direction.

The girl had to hide her amused laugh with a snort, but his large pointed ears picked up on her mirth. After a few moments of desperately trying to contain her laughter, she finally gave in and laughed outright at him. It had been a long time since someone had so blatantly tried to pick up on her with such unbridled sincerity. He joined her in her laughter and noted how lovely the sounds coming from her were. She had a soft voice when she wasn't hiding it behind contempt.

Composing herself, she let a few more giggles escape from behind the hand covering her mouth. "You know," she started, "I haven't talked to a demon so…" she paused as she searched for the word, "…lively in decades."

His pointy ears began to wiggle and a faint red stained his cheeks. He took this time to touch his feet to the wood of the deck. Slowly he bent forward, trying to get a better look at his acquaintance's face. But he found that he could only see her small pink lips turned up slightly underneath her cloak. As he rose to stand, he put his hands behind his head, "Is tha so?" He started. "Well, glad I could be of service ta ya, I am! Maybe ya could leave the medical ward ta watch one o' me matches?"

The mirth in his eyes was too much to deny and she nodded her head slightly, "I'll think about it."

A comfortable silence held for only a moment before he stuffed his hands in his baggy white pants and introduced himself. "Mah name's Jin by tha way. Jin, Master o' the Wind." The way he said it gave her the impression that he expected her name in return.

"Pleasure," she said without missing a beat, "but I don't give out my name to demons I've just met."

The look that befell his face as he stared at the top of her pristine cloak hood was deflated. "I don' see why no'. After all, tha was a mighty fine laugh we jus' had, it was."

The girl craned her neck to look him in the eye. He was tall, very tall, especially when compared to her. Jin had at least two heads on her, and that was excluding his shaggy red hair. The top of her head didn't even reach his shoulders.

As she stared up at him, she sighed. He had such an innocent look about him and it was very likely that she would never see him again. Maybe this one time it wouldn't hurt to give someone her name. With a small hint of exasperation hidden in her voice, she replied, "Kamara. Master of Nothing, but a Jack of all trades."

He laughed loudly at the joke he knew was pointed at him. "Kamara then, is it? Tha's a mighty pretty name, it is."

"Thanks," she said, unmoved by the overjoyed tone in his voice. He moved to say something else but was interrupted by the blare of the ship's horn.

Both their heads turned toward the west. Coming into view over the horizon was their destination. Hanging-Neck Island. It looked more ominous and foreboding each time she saw it. The sea that surrounded the scraggly rocks that protruded from the belly of the island was black and inky and seemed to be in a constant state of turmoil. It never rested. The shadows that were cast in between the caverns and caves that nestled the cliff face seemed to move and teem with malicious intent. This place, where humans pitted demons against demons, where so many had lost their lives for the sole purpose of entertainment, made a chill run up Kamara's spine.

"So tha's Hanging-Neck Island?" Jin let out a breathy whistle.

Kamara nodded, "That's it alright."

"I can't wait 'til it's ours," Jin said excitedly, ears twitching in anticipation.

"Yours?" She inquired.

He nodded at her and smiled from ear to ear. "Me an' mah team. When we win the tournament we're goin' ta wish fer tha island, we are. So we can be free."

Kamara smiled and shook her head. Freedom…on an island. Then again, she had heard far more malicious wishes than ownership of a cursed island.


End file.
